


nitrous hellscape

by avosettas



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: ...arguably., Angst, Collage Ending (Smile For Me), Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 08:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26848918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avosettas/pseuds/avosettas
Summary: “Fuck, shit, I forgot to tell you, the air - don’t breathe the air! I’m sorry!”The message goes unlistened to. The phone is so deep in Nat’s pocket that she barely feels it vibrating.
Relationships: Nat Vancey & Trencil Varnnia
Kudos: 17





	nitrous hellscape

**Author's Note:**

> so you know how nat has to be made happy but trencil doesn't? yeah. 
> 
> nitrous oxide has a LOT of side effects, but some that i touched on were: euphoria/dysphoria, spatial disorientation, dissociation, and loss of manual dexterity/mental function.
> 
> also, in large doses, it can literally destroy your brain, whcih is... interesting. and fuck up your dna! object head habiticians real.

“Hey, I know you left last night - and good riddance, who knows what would have happened if you’d stayed… But you need to come back to the Habitat.” 

~

The air feels thin. 

Nat feels lightheaded almost as soon as she walks into the courtyard. Kamal hadn’t warned her about this - she’s not sure he’d known. She doesn’t see him anywhere. 

“Air’s toxic, little lady,” someone says behind her. It’s the bartender - Jimothan, maybe? Jimothan, yeah - with his tie tied around his lower face. 

“Kamal didn’t say anything about that when he called me,” Nat grunts, pulling her jacket’s collar up around her nose. 

“He’s in a rush,” Jimothan replies. “Stay safe, now, kiddo.” Nat watches him walk away, toward the corner, where a person in a suit is standing. They’re laughing to themself, a little maniacally. 

The worst part is that they have a _dinner plate_ for a head. 

Nat screams, and inadvertently inhales more of… whatever was in the air than she meant to. 

~

“Fuck, shit, I forgot to tell you, the air - don’t breathe the air! I’m sorry!” 

The message goes unlistened to. The phone is so deep in Nat’s pocket that she barely feels it vibrating. 

~

She can’t think. The space around her is swirling. 

Where is she, again? 

_Your dad isn’t safe there, not with Habit!_

Fuck. 

Everything is moving even when Nat tries to focus. She feels like shit. 

She tries to stumble towards the Lounge, but all she succeeds at doing is stumbling onto her knees. Someone pulls her up, probably to be helpful, or some semblance of it in this nitrous hellscape, but she pushes them off as soon as she can. 

Her legs are so wobbly. When she finally reaches the wall, she slumps into it and leans on it heavily. Her head feels stuffed with cotton, and below that is a stew of horrible thoughts trying to break through the fog. 

Further below that, Nat knows she’s here to find her dad. 

She stumbles again, and again, until she’s close to giving up. She barely notices that it’s gotten darker, the shade of the courtyard hardly even noticeable through the fog in her head. 

There’s someone standing just ahead. Like the dinner plate person, their head is… not. 

It’s a flower. A big one. A daisy, maybe, but she can’t contemplate that any further, because she can’t focus. 

Especially after looking at the flower-head for a moment. 

It stares (or she assumes it’s staring, she can’t tell) back at her. And then, somehow, she regains her dexterity and her strength and she runs straight into her father. 

Her dad nearly falls over with the force of the hug, but he holds her tight as he can. His hands are shaking, or maybe her arms are. She leans on him heavily, but she can’t tell if she’s crying.

He slides down the wall, until they’re sat on the ground. Nat clutches his stupid cape with all the force she can muster in her weak limbs. 

The petals of the flower where his head used to be droop when Nat looks up towards him, but he wipes her tears, gentle as he always had when she was a kid. 

“‘m sorry,” she whispers, with her mouth that won’t form words, into his shirt. His hand rubs her back soothingly, but he doesn’t respond. Just trembles, like it’s holding in laughter. 

The thought only makes Nat sob harder.


End file.
